i've grown tired, of the words of the single man
hangin' lifeless on his every word -- o man
you don't understand dear man
the little angel held out her hand
sayin' father, father i love you
o praise jesus i got her


ok yeah billygoat an we'll play farm
i didn't mean to spirit stiff you
nor to doy you no harm
you say you've got a bone to pick
well, there's plenty showin' on [bad word] on up yeah bring your temper boy
we'll see, we'll see


yeah you may be the only [bad word] on son
bring your blade and your gun
and if i die by your hand
i've gotta home in glory land